Part 5 (2/2)

I stood frozen while the woman took his arm and snuggled up against him and they started walking off together.

He'd done two in one night before, so this shouldn't have surprised me. But it sure did. I'd just known known he would lead me straight to his lodgings and I'd end up a hero. he would lead me straight to his lodgings and I'd end up a hero.

It wasn't about to happen that way, though.

Mary hadn't been enough for him. He was fixing to butcher this gal, too.

It'd be my fault, if I let it happen.

I dug the knife out of my pocket, pried open its blade and rushed after them.

My father had died in battle. If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me. I reckoned I might be meeting up with him any second. Eager as I was for the reunion, though, I hoped it wouldn't happen for considerable more years.

I didn't want to die just yet. But I couldn't let this gal get killed, either.

I slowed down a trifle as the distance closed. Pretty soon, I was no more than a few paces behind them. The gal wore a bonnet. Her head was leaning against his shoulder, and her arm was hooked around his back. He had one arm around her. His other swung the leather case along at his side.

They hadn't heard me yet. I was holding my breath. It helped, too, having lost my shoes to the thieves.

It went against the grain to backstab a fellow.

I went on and did it anyway.

Charged right up behind him and jammed my blade through his coat.

He let out a sharp cry. I tugged the blade out to get ready for another go. Before I could stick him again, he whirled around. His case clobbered the side of my face and sent me staggering. As I fell on my rump, the woman took to screaming. Then she took to her heels.

The Ripper didn't go after her.

I'd saved her.

But matters were looking dicey for me.

I scrambled to get up as the Ripper came at me. He didn't seem to be in any great hurry. He switched the case to his left hand, reached inside the front of his coat, and came out with a knife. Likely the same knife he'd used on Mary.

”You're Jack the Ripper!” I blurted as I got to my feet.

”Am I now?” he asked.

It was the same voice I'd heard on the bed above me.

I backed away into the street and slashed about with my knife to keep him at a distance.

His knife was a d.a.m.n sight bigger. He didn't swing it at me. He just held it steady in front and looked like he didn't plan to fool around, just ram it through my gizzard and hoist me off my feet with it.

”Give yourself up,” I said, ”or I'll run you through.”

He laughed at that. Can't say I blamed him.

I kept backing away. He kept coming.

I kept hoping he'd topple because of the stabbing I'd given him, but my blade must've hit a place that didn't count for much.

Suddenly, he made his move.

He lunged, thrusting at my belly.

I leaped aside. His blade missed me by a hair, and I whipped mine down. I didn't have any target in mind, just hoped to slash him somewhere, hurt him the best I could. But what happened, I whacked off most of his nose. It came clean off and fell.

He squealed.

Sounded a bit like the squeal he'd torn out of Mary.

He dropped his satchel and clutched his spouting stub and roared. roared. The sound of that roar made my heart quake. The sound of that roar made my heart quake.

I made like a jackrabbit.

It might sound cowardly, but I'd had enough. That roar did it for me. He stopped being a wounded man and turned into the monster that had cut Mary into a faceless, gutted carca.s.s. That had eaten eaten her. her.

I wanted shut of him for good.

And I'll tell you, I didn't feel much like a coward as I raced off. I'd done my duty. I'd saved that woman from him and I'd marked him in a way he couldn't hide.

I figured, if I could only make my escape and live to tell my tale, Jack the Ripper would either disappear forever or end up in jail next time he showed his noseless face.

I hadn't killed him. I hadn't captured him. But I'd stopped his reign of terror.

That's what I thought, anyhow.

Even though he was chasing after me, I figured he wouldn't catch up. After all, I was young and quick. And I wasn't hurt.

From the sounds of him das.h.i.+ng along behind me, I hadn't lost him yet.

I took a glance back when we were near a lamp, and saw how near he was and shriveled up inside. The knife in his right hand was pumping up and down. He'd lost his hat. His coat had come open, and was flapping behind him. His face and bare chest were black with blood.

He looked like the worst kind of nightmare spook.

I took to yelling for help. Not that I had much breath to do it with. The yelling came out feeble. And nothing seemed to come of it. After a while, I gave up and put all my energy into staying ahead of him.

I dashed down streets and alleys. I plowed around corners. Every so often, something came out of the dark and b.u.mped me. I tripped a few times, but always got up and running again in time to keep from getting killed.

We ran past people sometimes. None was a constable. None tried to help. They all either ignored us or cowered or ran out of our way.

That eager mob must've turned in early.

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